


Pretty Darn Nice

by LipstickAndWhiskey (CopperMarigolds)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Emotional Comfort, Emotionally hurting Sam, F/M, Fluff, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-04
Updated: 2017-03-04
Packaged: 2018-09-28 08:43:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 707
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10081928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CopperMarigolds/pseuds/LipstickAndWhiskey
Summary: He comes to you in the night, seeking a little comfort. You never ask why, instead spreading your arms wide open.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I just want to snuggle Sam up sometimes, so here’s some small spoon Sammy. I’d also like to dedicate this small piece to @wildfirewinchester for being so lovely to me. Thank you, Meg. <3

([x](https://tmblr.co/ZwVxSm1RWnTBZ))

Movement wakes you, the mattress shifting as a body nestles into bed with you. You were used to this. You blearily reach an arm over him, his body going still as you do. He’s overwarm, shirt soft against your hand as you smooth it over his chest. His heart beats rapidly under your palm, and you sigh softly.

“Sam? C’mere.”

You slide up higher, pillow crushed between you and the headboard as you pull him into your chest. He goes willingly, pushing his back to your front, making sure to make as much contact with your body as he can. You lean into it, snaking your arm underneath his own and around his chest, settling back over the hard thump of his heart. Your face pressed into his neck, you smell the faint aroma of his shampoo as you nuzzle your cold nose into the fine hairs at his nape. He rests his hand over your own, shaky fingers pressing between yours.

You can’t remember how long this has been going on for. A month, a fortnight, a week? You’re not sure.

What you are sure of is Sam’s trembling frame in your arms, the nights that he crawls into your bed and asks to stay. He comes in the pitch black like a lost dog, tired eyes and clenched jaw twisting at your heart.

You never ask, never pressure. Some nights he tells you, other nights not a single word is spoken. He keeps it from Dean, the struggle. He lets you in, as much as he can bare, letting you see the brokenness he hides with a practiced mask.

There’s nights where he breaks on you- you lay on your back as you cradle his head to your chest, running soft fingers through his hair as he lets himself shatter. You gently hush his cries, heart bleeding as he holds tight to you. Sometimes he’d fall asleep, the exertion too much for his tired body. Others, he lays there, ear pressed to your heart beating away in your chest. Your fingers still threading through soft locks, he’ll tilt his head, pressing a kiss to your jaw. You can’t help the small smile, arms wrapped around his bulky frame as you let hands smooth comforting circles as you feel his breathing even out.

“You still awake?” he whispers into the dark, your wandering mind snapping back to the present.

“Yeah, you okay?”

He’s silent for a beat. “This isn’t- I’m not bothering you, am I?”

_What?_ “Do I make you feel like you are?”  
“…no.”

“Well good. ‘Cause you aren’t.”

He sighs, squeezing your hand a little tighter. “I just- I guess I just wanted to say that I like this. Sharing a bed with someone… It’s nice.”

You grin into his hair. “Yeah, it’s pretty darn nice.”

“Would you, uh- I mean, it might be…”

You chuckle at him softly, “Spit it out, Sammy.”

He huffs a laugh, a smile in his voice. “Could we share a room?”

You say nothing for a moment, eyes shut against the hope that blossoms in your chest. _Be cool about it_ , you tell yourself. _It’s not like he’s asking you out. You’re toeing a very delicate line here, and you better not screw it all up._

“It’s okay if you don’t want to.” He mistakes your silence for hesitance. His thumb rubs over the length of your own, pausing to rub at each joint as he talks. “I mean, it’s not like I’ve really asked you out properly yet.”

_Breathe. You’ve forgotten how to breathe._ “What?” _How eloquent_ , you berate yourself.

He turns a little, scooting away from you enough to see your face over his shoulder. “You didn’t know?”

“What?”

His mouth wavers into a cute little pleased smile. “Why do you think I crawl into _your_ bed?”

“Well, you sure aren’t going to crawl into Dean’s, that’s for damn sure.” you snark, still a little jarred.

He extricates himself, and your heart plummets. _Oh no_ , you think. _I’ve gone and scared him away with my idiot brain._

Yet, he doesn’t leave. He only turns around, arms wrapped around your middle and hair askew. “I guess I’d better make myself more clear.”

And he kisses you.


End file.
